BREAKING THE CHAIN
by djpaswhp2112
Summary: Based on the 2001 J-Horror movie "Suicide Circle". When a young boy stops a mass suicide in Shinjuku, he and his friend must fight to prevent an underground organization from causing more suicides while trying to seal the wounds of his own past.
1. PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE

_"I want to piece back together..._

_what I lost before..._

_but I can't. It's too late..._

_so I keep my head held high..._

_and keep walking..._

_But these souls that lay beneath me..._

_refuse to get up..._

_I must help them get up..._

_even if I am to fall down to do so..._

_Until every single soul is pieced back together..._

_and walking forward again..._

_I will not turn back..._

_..._

_..._

_even if it costs me my own life."  
_


	2. CHAPTER I: NEW BEGINNINGS

CHAPTER I

NEW BEGINNINGS

My alarm clock blared the same cheesy tone as it always did. It was the same deal every morning. I wake up, dress, eat, and walk to the train station 3 blocks away. I am studying abroad here in Shinjuku, Tokyo, Japan, all by my lonesome self, and it's not all as it's cracked up to be. Yeah, sure…the basic anime situation. Kid transfers to Japan. Kid goes to new school. Kid makes friends. Kid falls in love. Whole plotline occurs to fit a 12 or 13 episode series which will max out by the final episode.

If this is what you're expecting, you're obviously not going to like this story.

I arrive at school 15 minutes prior to the bell, just like I usually do. I swap my shoes at the door for cheap, floppy indoor shoes, climb up to the second floor, take my seat, and prepare myself for class. And I get a visit from the school bully, Mirohi. He demands money or homework answers, I tell him no, and he beats me up anyway. And the teachers don't care. They think we're "responsible adults" who can settle their problems and differences on their own.

Well that may be, but some people like Mirohi obviously need to be put on a leash. A very _short_ leash.

I'm good in school academically. English is my main language, so that's not a problem. I'm good in math, science, and the lot. I'm also somewhat athletic (not all Americans are fat slabs of meat) and I play piano for the school band. I don't belong to any clubs, so I head straight home after school. I do homework, read some manga, extract some raw anime for the subbers back in America, and then go to sleep at about 10. I've been doing this for over a month now, and no one seems to stop me or care about me.

My parents? Father left when I was 8 months old. Mother dies when I'm 13. I go to my aunt, and she doesn't want me in her face. She avoids me like the plague, and when I suggested to her about going to Japan to study for high school, it didn't take her long to shove a credit card, a one-way plane ticket, and my belongings (all of them; told you she hates me) and say "See ya!" She didn't even take me to the airport the day I _left_. I have no friends in school and don't talk to anybody other than Mirohi (like I have a choice). I don't feel isolated or lonely, but then again I don't want people to make my life more miserable than it is.

And yet, I discovered something about myself…

…I cared for people deep down inside…well, on a matter on life or death…

I'm an anti-Darwinist on a grand scale. If a person is sick, treat them. If a person is dying, stay by their bed. If a person loses their leg in an explosion, treat the stump. Darwin? Let 'em die, let 'em die, and let 'em die.

And don't even get me started on suicide. I hate that topic _so_ much. The only person who should decide whether or not a person's life should be taken from this Earth is God. Upset with your life? Suck it up. Jesus died on a cross for sinners. You're dying on whatever method you choose for stupid reasons. Raped? Shake it off. Debt? Shake it off. Fear? Shake it off. Remember, no matter how hard you think you've got it, there's someone on this planet worse off than you. It's called having backbone. As Jay-Z once said in a song, "if you feelin' like a p, n, go n' brush your shoulders off…ladies is ps, too; go n' brush your shoulders off…n's is crazy, baby; don't forget that boy told you 'get that dirt off your shoulder'…"

Plus, what about eternal darkness? It's just a theory, but let's use this example: you know that the world will end in 1 hour, and the place of salvation is the local stadium. You're in your car driving there, and you see an ice cream stand by the road. You stop for a cone, which takes 12 minutes out of your time. Then you keep going. But wait; gas prices dropped 3 cents! You want to fill up, and waste 8 minutes there. Now you have 10 minutes left, give or take, and as you're driving frantically down the now abandoned road, you see a snail crawling up the signpost over the bridge. You stop, pull over, and study this snail. You're so fascinated by this snail that your attention doesn't pull from it and…

BOOM! World's over. And the worst part is that you did not get salvation at the stadium. Because you weren't _there_. You pulled off your trail of life, so God wasn't able to help you at the end. That's basically as a comparison to life. And suicide is wasting your time and/or completely stopping yourself on the road to the end of your life. It's jumping off the bridge into the void below before you get to the other side. And don't think God's going to be there when you fall. God is not only busy with everyone else, but he is also forgetful and makes mistakes as well.

And in eternal darkness, there's…well…eternal darkness. The earliest memory I have ever had was eternal darkness before my birth or conception. Before you start calling me a psychopath, let me say that it was horrible place. It was pitch blackness, and I could not hear, see, speak, touch, taste, or move. But I had awareness. I called out to people in my mind. They weren't actual people; I was just calling out for help. But no one ever came for me until I was finally born. And that's my stand on eternal darkness. And let me tell you: it's _not_ a good place to be. Period.

Not to sound all atheist on you.

But anyways, back to the story…

Today was different though. It was the start of the rest of my life.

I got to school and did the same routine. The first few classes were over, and it was lunch time. I was bored and not hungry, so I turned on my phone and watched some SportsCenter. The classroom was empty save for a group of girls on the other side of the classroom. They were gossiping on…well…whatever girls gossip about. I ignored this as I watched Peter Gammons reporting on the Mets. Looks like they've had another bad season. Yet I still kept one ear on the conversation with those girls. I was somewhat interested with those girls. And just as Gammons finished his report, I heard one girl say to another:

"Hey, hey…did you hear? There's a meeting tonight at Shinjuku Station. Platform #8, 7:15 for the 7:30."

"Wow! That's amazing! Did you get invited?"

"Sure did. They also said to bring friends!"

"Really? I want to go!"

"Me too!"

"Me too!"

I was puzzled by this. What type of meeting were they talking about? Was it a girl session? Or was it a group date? Or…even an orgy? I wanted to ask, but the bell finally rang. The girls returned to their various classrooms and seats, and the next class began.

I shook it off with a shrug and a sigh, but archived the information in the back of my head just in case.

And it's a good thing I did.

My computer wouldn't start.

Not at all.

I pushed the button, jiggled the cord, rehooked the motherboard…nothing. No response. No humming. No beep.

Nothing.

Dead.

I called up Apple support. They said that they could let me bring it in for repairs.

"But don't you have a part in you're store? I have to get it fixed by 9:00 P.M. I have a raw to collect."

"Let me check," she sighed. A few seconds of silence…

"…Sorry, sir; we just used the last working one yesterday."

"What? That's two whole wards away! Did you check any other surrounding stores?"

"Hold on…" Another sigh. More silence.

"…You're in luck. There's a power supply at the store in Ginza. Shall I put it aside for you?"

"Are you sure?"

"You wanna trek to Saitama?"

Good point, I thought. Saitama's last train left at 6:45. I couldn't get there in time, and I wanted to get the raw _tonight_ lest m.3.3.w gives me another federal case for not providing their raws.

"…Sir?"

"Oh, yes?"

"The store closes at 8:30. Shall I put it aside for you?"

I looked at the schedule posted on my wall. Shinjuku has a train heading to Ginza at 7:30. And the store isn't far from the station. I looked at the clock on the wall. It read 7:04.

I let out a sigh and decided to go. "Fine, what's the reservation number?"

After getting the information, I got up from my desk, grabbed a bottle of Vitamin Water for the road, put my shoe on, and left for the station.

But little did I know that tonight I would do something so extraordinary, it would become the center of my attention for the next 2 months…


	3. CHAPTER II: STOP!

CHAPTER II

STOP!

I scanned my transit card through the scanner at the security gates to Shinjuku Station. Making my way down the stairs to Platform #8, I felt something clicking in my head, and my little voice coming out of its shell. It told me that something bad was about to happen to me sometime tonight. I sure as hell hoped it wasn't the part waiting at the Apple Store.

I put my earbuds in and looked at the time on my iPod. 7:14 P.M. I was a bit early, so I took a sip of my Vitamin Water and put on some Rush. Cygnus X-1 Book II Hemispheres. Live version from 1994. One of the greatest songs ever written in my opinion.

I started thinking about what was said in the classroom today. There was going to be a meeting tonight on this platform. And they said to "bring friends". I was worried by this, but then again, high school kids meeting together in mass numbers in unsuspecting areas was a pretty rare thing, and possibly wouldn't-no-_couldn't_ happen in a million, billion years. But I was going to be oh, so wrong. As I stood by the back wall to the platform, I could hear the footsteps and chatter of…high school students???

They came down the stairs. Both boys and girls. Chatting and talking amongst themselves. 70 of them in all. Nothing out of the ordinary. And what definitely made sense was that they were scattered over various parts of the platform. So nothing was going to happen tonight, I figured.

Oh, so, so, _so_, wrong.

7:29 P.M. The train should be pulling in by now. Trains in Japan always run on time compared to trains in America. As I'm putting away my iPod, my senses tell me to look up. I do, and now the high school students that ever-so-nonchalantly came lingering down the stairs 14 minutes ago are assembling on the edge of the platform.

"Train 17-B for Ginza is approaching on Platform #8, Track 17. For your safety, please stand behind the yellow line."

All of them take a step forward at once.

The students were chatting and giggling. Something was wrong here. These people are going to kill themselves…

Wait a minute!

"Meetings…"?

"Bring friends…"?

They joined hands. A train whistle can be heard in the distance.

I gulped. Loudly.

"READY? A ONE, AND A TWO…"

I had to think fast, otherwise 70 mothers won't be seeing their kids come home anymore alive.

"AND A ONE…"

The train lights could be seen reflecting off the wall.

I was getting very nervous. I could see it now: blood all over the platform. I fell to me knees, remembering _her_. How she smiled at me before she jumped. A calm, serene smile, that would lighten up even the saddest person in the history of the world.

"AND A TWO…"

I had to stop it from happening again. "…stop…please…stop!"

The train came in vision from the distance.

"AND A…"

"STOP!"

Every person in that line jolted and froze in place. The train slowed to a stop. Every person on the platform stood there still. The high school students in the line slowly turned to look at me.

The doors opened.

I walked towards the door. I was blocked by the joined hands of two girls.

"You, uh…you gonna just stand there gawking over the fact I just saved your sorry asses, or are you gonna unjoin them hands there?" I said in a relaxed tone with a hint of Kansai.

The girls instantly released each other's hands. I stepped on the train. The doors closed.

As the train slowly rolled out of the station, I noticed that those two girls that I ran into were actually two of the girls back in the classroom…

As I turned on my computer to connect to the cable back at my apartment, I decided to kill some time by watching some news before my apps loaded up and I could record this raw, so I turned on the TV and flipped to the channel I'd be recording off of. There was a "BREAKING NEWS" logo flashing on the screen. The reporter started the report…

"…this just in: it seems a mass suicide of 70 high school students at Shinjuku Station was thwarted tonight by an ongoing bystander who simply yelled, "STOP!" before the students could jump in front of the train."

You gotta be frickin' kidding me.

They switched to an eyewitness interview.

"…he seemed as if he was in some sort of pain. Physical, emotional…we _still_ don't know what was wrong with him, or what caused his motive to stop these…these…innocent young children from taking their lives that night. He is a true hero…"

Click. The TV went dark. I decided not to watch anymore. Too many bad memories. I set the auto-record feature up and crawled into bed. I fell asleep instantly…

"…_hey, hey…"_

_She turned to me._

"_You're not gonna jump, are ya?"_

_She looked down. "I am."_

_Tears welled in my eyes. "Please, PLEASE, don't go. I don't want to be left alone."_

_She smiled at me. A calm, serene smile,_ _that would lighten up even the saddest person in the history of the world._

"_You are never alone…"_

_And she jumped before the train and out of my life…_


	4. CHAPTER III: STANDING UP

CHAPTER III

STANDING UP

As I was preparing to leave the house, I reflected on what happened last night at the train station. Those people were willing to just carelessly give up their lives for reasons or heard of. Or maybe no reason at all. It was still hard to find out what was going on here. Was this all part of a hair-brained plan to overthrow the government? Or was it an active protest on human rights? I wasn't sure what, but I decided to see into it a little bit to make sure I did nothing wrong at the station.

And, before I left, my body, on its own, sauntered over to the closet by the door. I brought a box down from the cabinet. A pink, ugly box that smelled like dirt. I opened it. Inside were some rusty bolts from the windowsill, a manual on the assembly of a car frame, and…a pocket knife.

I had the sudden urge to shove it in my bag. That little voice came out again, telling me to take it. I might have "needed it". And I did…

---

School went the same as it did, except for Mirohi, of course. I was basically stared at by everyone-even the teacher in the last few minutes of class-all throughout the morning. They were whispering about me and were passing notes. I didn't care, really. I did a duty as an ongoing bystander. That was it. Nothing special or necessary needed for me. No parties, no parades, and no celebrations. I just saved some lives and went on to live the rest of my life.

That wasn't what Mihori thought.

After class was lunch break. But no one was leaving the room. Staring increased tenfold. I felt a wave of uncertainty come over me. No one was doing anything else. Something was going to happen. To me. And then Mihori came in.

He sauntered over and placed his big, beefy hand on my desk. He gave a very dirty grin and said slowly, "So you think you can be the hero, huh?"

I looked out the window. "I wasn't trying to be," I muttered through heavy lips.

He grinned evilly. "Really?"

He reached out for me quickly with his hand.

However, something inside me snapped. All the weeks of putting up with his unnecessary anger finally unleashed itself and exploded in a fireball inside my mind. I grabbed Mihori by the throat and pushed him halfway out the window. The whole room erupted in shocks and squeals. One person even fainted by the excitement.

I swiped the knife out of my pocket and opened it. The cool, smooth, clean glass reflected his now overly-frightened face.

"You know, I've been putting up with your horseshit day after day after day. It's making me very, _very_ sick." I pulled him closer to my face. "Why do you do it, Mihori? Why am _I_ the only one who has to put up with it? I never did anything to you. Is it because I'm tall? Big ears? Or because I'm a 'filthy, arrogant American'? Weren't those _your_ words, Mihori? Huh? Or was I just hallucinating?"

"…"

"Well, let me tell you something, Mihori. If it wasn't for 'filthy, arrogant Americans' like us, Japan would _still_ be a nuclear trash heap from the Second World War. So in this case, I should get some respect not as to what I appear to be, but what I _am_."

He started squealing like a pig. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so, sorry…"

"Now, putting that aside…tell me…what do you know about last night?"

He looked at me puzzled. "Huh?"

"I could tell that this had your dirty fingerprints all over what happened at the platform. What role did you play in this? Were you one of the few lucky bastards chosen to jump? Or was it your other victims come together by your command to jump so you can choose from a whole new selection of victims, myself included?"

He startled. "I don't know."

I pushed him out the window farther and brought the blade up closer to his throat. More gasps and shrieks and 3 more people fainted. "Talk," I said. "_I'm_ the one holding the cards now. You're just a worthless chip who does my bidding. What do you think will happen once I slice your throat now, or push you out the window? Everyone will keep quiet, because they'll all know _I'm_ the toughest now. I'll get away with this whole issue, just as _you_ got away with all the crap you pulled."

He was real freaked out now. "So what's it gonna be, Mihori? Speak, or die?"

"…, …, …," He couldn't take it anymore. He took a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and thrust it in my chest.

"Here, here! Take it! This is an invoice regarding the night of the incident! That's all I know, I swear! _Please_ don't hurt me."

I slowly let him out the window. The knife stayed clenched in my hand. I pointed towards the door with the knife.

"Get out. Go away. _Far_ away. Never get in my face again. If I see you bully me or any other person enrolled in this campus, I'll waste you quickly. Understood?"

He stood in sailor position. "U-u-understood, sir!" And with this he ran out the room crying and wailing like a little girl, stubbing his toe on the door on the way out.

Everyone was staring and gawking at me as I opened up the folded paper. Surely enough, it was an invoice. It was for one karaoke room, 3 hours, 10 people. All that was charged was the room itself. No songs selected, no drinks. No coupons used either. This was surely strange. How could someone rent a karaoke room, but not select any songs? Then what would be the point of going through renting a karaoke room without doing karaoke?

This perplexed me. I decided to take a look by this place tonight. I slowly folded back the knife, shoved it and the invoice in my pocket, and walked back to my seat. I sat down just as the bell rang. Everyone in the classroom was staring at me.

I gave a sly grin and softly put my index finger to my lips. "Shhhhhhhhhhhhh…"

---

_They kicked her, spat on her, and pounded down on her, but she did not scream or fight back…_

_I sat in the corner with tears in my eyes. "Why?" I said in a squeaky voice. "Why must this happen to her?"_

_She looked up at me as they continued, with a look of calmness in her eyes, as if nothing was happening to her in the first place. As if there were no problems…_

_As if…there was nothing to live for…_


	5. CHAPTER IV: THE PARTY

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER IV

THE PARTY

The walk after school wasn't far for me. However, I had to go the shops area for the karaoke building. I normally don't go to this section of Shinjuku, because this was where all the "party people" went after school, work, and on the weekends. I'm not really a "party person", and today is Saturday. I knew I was not going to like being around so much people, but this was to save more lives from ending too early.

After asking for directions, I walked about a third of mile to the karaoke building. It was an old, worn, brick building, with lots of ivy growing on the entire building. A rusty sign that said "SINGAHZ" was posted above a pair of wooden double doors that looked like they needed a new coat of paint. The windows were boarded up, so I couldn't see anything. Now I have no clue about Japan, but back in America if you were going to run a business in a building like that, it'd be a virtual black hole for your money. Then again I couldn't be sure that the same thing applied here in this place of all places.

I opened the door on the right and walked inside. The entryway was your standard Japanese entry, so I took off my shoes off and walked up to the counter. The counter was situated between two highways, with stairwells at the end of both, probably revealing more floors. There was a middle-aged woman at the front of the counter. She was wearing a red apron that had the name "SINGAHZ" on it, and her name below it, which was Hiroko. Either she was older than she looked or she just took a few too many shifts, because she had a mess of wrinkles on her face and hands.

She looked up at me and sighed. "Here to rent a room, sir?"

"Huh?" I looked up. "Oh, no; it's not about that. Is the owner of this establishment available? I'd like to speak to him or her."

Another sigh and she pushed a red button on the intercom. "Dear," she said, "there is a person at the front desk who requires your presence."

"_Send 'em in,"_ I heard a distorted voice say. It, too, sounded overworked.

"Take the hallway to your left up the stairway and it's the last door on the left, sir. You will have to make your appointment quick because the director is very busy today."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be as quick as I can." I made my way down the hallway to my left, listening to the sound of crappy singing coming in from behind the doors. How an establishment like this has full business is so far beyond me. I guess I shouldn't try to do real estate in Japan.

I made my way up the staircase slowly. It rattled and squeaked, and I thought that it would give at any minute with me on it. Slowly, cautiously, I made my way up all 25 spooky, steep steps and finally made it on the second floor. It was very vacant, and very dirty, and this floor squeaked, too. I made my way down the hall and knocked on the door on the left at the end.

"Yes, come in," I heard a gruff voice say.

I entered the room. It was so clean and tidy. Peach-cremé wallpaper, lavender carpet, and organized furniture were in the room. Now how-no, _why_-would such a room be clean at the end of a filthy hall and stairwell? This and so many more questions flooded at the back of my head as I stared at this man. He was gruff and fat, with a big beard and sweaty shirt. He was so relaxed in this old, worn chair, it would seem like a sin to try to get him out of it. He stared at me, cigar in mouth and everything.

"Whadd'ya want, kid ? I'm very busy today."

"I can see that," I said with a hint of sarcasm. I took the invoice out of my pocket and gave it to him.

"This was an invoice from two nights ago. 10 people were in this room for 3 hours. The payment was done in cold, hard cash, and there are no song selections whatsoever on here."

"Well, what if it was all included in the payment?" He didn't skip a beat.

"Because even if you _didn't_ charge it, it has to go _on the invoice_. This isn't _me_ talking, by the way; this is the city and the prefecture of Tokyo talking. You have to put it on there."

The man started to sweat. "S-so what if I didn't?"

I looked at him dead in the eye for the kill. "I have reason to believe that 10 people out of the 70 that tried to kill themselves at the station the same night as the invoice's date came here for a party." I leaned over on the desk…"Or maybe something else…"

The cigar fell from his mouth, and he fell out the chair. He started sobbing wildly.

"No," he sobbed. "No! How can this be? I didn't try to encourage their deaths. I just figured they were regular people, is all. What am I going to do? I'll be arrested for sure!" He continued his sobbing spree.

I retained my composure and said, "I'm not going to report you to the authorities. However, I'm reviewing this matter to make sure that something like this never happens again. Now I need to ask you some questions about those people."

He sat up against the wall. "O-o-okay," he finally managed to say. "Go ahead."

I pulled a pad and a piece of paper out of my pocket. "Let's start with who was there. Who were they?"

"Uh…about 6 girls and 4 boys. All high school kids. They looked like they were having a good time coming in, but outside they were more serious and grim-looking."

"Did any of the other clients complain about their presence?"

"No, not that I know of."

"Were they carrying anything suspicious looking?"

He pondered for a moment. "Well…yes. One girl was carrying a white bag, and it smelled bad. It smelled…like…like…dead, rotten human skin."

I leaned forward. "Do you have a policy regarding inspection of suspicious items?"

"No. We've never had an incident like that."

I looked back at him. "Well, you can't just think that just because it never happened doesn't mean it will." I closed the notepad.

"Well, sir, this completes my visit here. However, I'd like to come back tonight to take a look around."

He gave me a brow. "Well, I don't know, kid; you still gotta pay for a room-"

"You want something like last night to happen again?"

His face went pale and he sobbed again. After 3 minutes of the same thing, he finally got up and said, "Consider it allowed. Just make sure that every client that comes in and goes out tonight can come back another night alive."

I walked towards the door and opened it. "I will, sir," I said, stepping outside into the mysterious hallway.

"Wait!" he said before I closed the door. "Why did you ask me all those questions?"

I was silent for a few seconds before I came up with an answer. "So they can't do it again," I said, not looking behind as I closed the door behind me.

The night was filled with partygoers in the streets of Shinjuku. Lots of people were moving around, going into restaurants and love hotels, enjoying the night as if they were to wake up dead the next morning.

Let's just hope it doesn't come to that…

I arrived at "SINGAHZ" at around 7, just as the crowd came in. The owner was waiting for me in the lobby, and after I took my shoes off at the door, I followed him upstairs to his office where he opened the door to his closet. It was a security room, filled with monitors showing actions of all the rooms, including the desolate rooms of the second floor and outside and in the back alleyways.

"This everything?" I asked.

"Huh?" He looked at me confusedly at first, as if he was unaware of the plan. "Oh…yes, yes that's it. 31 monitors in total."

I turned back to look at the monitors. Nothing was out of the picture; just a bunch of lowlife profiles singing and dancing in the vibe that engulfed their souls.

About 15 minutes passed. I saw that the party in room 11 was emptying out, and a new party was coming in. _So business must be booming tonight,_ I thought. I continued to watch this party in particular. The party consisted of about 12 people, 6 boys and 6 girls, still in school uniform. They looked very serious and grim. One girl got up and selected a song. Either it was a very solemn one or she just wasn't feeling it tonight, because she stood there, motionlessly, singing like a dull computerized person without a soul or a single feeling to boot.

And no one was stopping her. Everyone was also very quiet, solemn, and motionless. After she finished her song, she returned to her seat very slowly. No one applauded or grabbed for the remote or the book. One took a scroll out of their pocket. He unrolled it and the entire group stared around it.

It got my attention pretty quickly. "Hey," I called out to the owner. He was fast asleep in his chair. "HEY!"

He snapped out of his sleep. "Wh-what happened?! Is someone dead?"

"How do you zoom in on the room?"

"What?"

"I want to zoom in. How?"

He yanked his center desk drawer open and pulled out an old black remote. "Heads up!" he said as he tossed it.

I caught it in my hand. "Nice throw."

"Thanks. I played baseball in college. I was the top player in all…"

I ignored the rest of his drabble and zoomed in on the scroll they were staring at. It seemed that it was some sort of map with a chart encompassing the perimeter of the scroll. It had different-colored lines. I read the chart and saw that one thing was circled on this chart.

"SHINJUKU STATION"

"Oh, shit," I muttered.

After a few more seconds of quiet, the one who pulled out the scroll nodded with a grin. Then the room erupted out in cheers and laughter. The party atmosphere settled in, and they started to order snacks and select songs, as if the meeting never happened.

The owner squeezed his way into the closet. "So what'd you see?"

I looked at him blankly for a couple of seconds and said,

"…I don't know…"

An hour passed, and then the one with the remote finally selected the checkout selection on the system. Then they flooded out, being replaced by another party who started having fun right away.

I reached for my jacket. "I'm leaving."

The owner looked up from his paper. "What? You're leaving?"

I tore a piece of paper off of the news paper and scrawled my number on it with a marker.

"_Hey!_" he said.

I slammed the paper down on his desk "Here's my cell number. Call me if you see anything suspicious."

The owner looked up at me. "But I barely fit in there-"

"Last night."

He started sobbing again. I was out the door before he could finish.

I put my shoes on at the door and went outside. They were walking hand in hand, as if they were practicing for standing on the platform. I followed at a distance, then got closer and closer. Finally they stopped and turned slowly. Each of them looked pissed off.

I was startled. "Oh! Uh…uh…lovely evening isn't it?"

They continued to stare.

Finally I sighed. "Okay, you caught me. I was trying to stop you from killing yourselves tonight. But it's for a reason. Why are you doing this? Who gave you this idea? TELL ME!"

They dropped hands. Then each of them reached into their bags and pulled out the same thing.

Dozukis.

_Sharp_ dozukis.

I gulped. "Wow…nice dozukis. Hey, why not put those away before I get the suspicion that you guys are gonna-"

They all came running at me, screaming at the top of their lungs…

I swear, if Bubba was not resting in my pants pocket that night I would not be here right now telling my story. To this day, I promised myself never to talk about what I did again, but the point is that I won. And now I was running for my life through the alleyways, covered in blood that was innocent but insane.

I ran up the steps to my apartment and flung myself through the door before anyone could see me. I locked the door and took off all my clothes, including my undergarments. I took out my wallet and Bubba, the only things without significant evidence I would do away with. I put the clothes in the paper bag, shoes and all, and brought them outside to the burn bin. See, what was different from other apartment building was that there was a burn bin in our alleyway that you were to put your paper and cardboard in to prevent extra trash for landfills…and his budget. I took some of the gasoline from underneath the stairwell and dropped the bag in, dousing it in a thick layer of oil. Then I lit a match and dropped it in. Instantly it caught fire and exploded in a fireball. It was pretty bright, but no one came out because they knew that lots of people lit in the burn bin at night to prove during the day that they followed orders, which was an uncool thing to do in Japan at the time, mind you. And as I watched the flames engulf the bag, I knew at this point that there was no turning back now. Now, to save the lives of others, I must put aside my desires and work on a solution to cut off the head of this massive snake of events.

I just hoped it wasn't too late.

_We stood along the railing on the boardwalk. The sun was setting, and seagulls were flying all around. The ocean was calm and beautiful as it lapped one wave after another. We felt both relaxed, especially me…as I was letting loose the leak of life…_

"_Hey!" she said, punching me as I finished the last few drops._

_I looked at her with a grin. Then we both broke out into laughter. I loved seeing her laugh. It completed me._

…_especially because she rarely did it anymore…_


	6. CHAPTER V: CONFESSIONS

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER V

CONFESSIONS

The event that took place the night before was a hot topic the next morning. Every person I passed, every room I entered, and every corner I turned, there was someone talking about how those kids were brutally murdered. I had yet to tell anyone that I was the killer in the first place, not because of whether or not I'd be subjected to a punishment without a claim of self-defense, but because of the fact that if the police got involved with my private investigations, whatever force that threatened to unleash itself would, and that meant bloodshed of innocent lives. I could not stand for that. It would violate everything I stood for in this issue.

However, I _could_ have left a trace of evidence at the scene of the crime. I had to get fingerprinted for my visa, and if they traced the DNA to mine, I'd be screwed. So I decided that after school today I was going to go to the police station to confess, and pray for a miracle in the meantime.

None of my teachers brought up the topic until band in 5th hour. I was not paying attention to the teacher; my mind was elsewhere. I did not care about what the teachers or students talked about on a regular basis, and I certainly I did not care now. I asked myself a question: _What would if it be like if I stood up and pronounced that I was the killer_? Would there be shock in the room? Would I get jumped under the impression that I was about to strike again? Would anybody care?

The teacher, Mr. Yakokaze slammed his music stand, rattling pencils everywhere. "Foreign One!" he yelled.

Yeah, that was my nickname. I never really told anyone my name, and I was the only one in this school from another country; hence, foreign one.

I stood from the piano. "Yes, sir?"

He looked at me with an angry glare. "What are you doing sitting around daydreaming? Do that in the office, not in my class. If I wanted to baby-sit kids, I'd be a babysitter and not a teacher. Pay attention."

"Yes, sir," I said, not saying a word. I sat back down, noticing all the giggles.

(insert)

After class, Yakokaze sat in his chair, looking out the big windows in the room, overlooking the city. He was silent as everyone left, but when I was about to leave, he said,"

"Foreign One! Remain here."

I stood in my place, not moving or doing anything. It was very quiet in the room now. The only thing I heard now was the ticking of the clock over the doorway.

"Take a seat in the front," he said.

I sat in the front row as he instructed, moving a couple of stands aside. Yakokaze turned back to face his desk, folding his hands on it neatly. He had a very solemn frown across his face, so I could instantly tell that he wasn't happy. We sat in silence for a few minutes. Then he started to speak.

"Foreign one, tell me; you missed three openings today during practice. THREE! I don't run a class like that! I want perfect precision, honest mistakes. When _you_ screw up, you show it in your face! I see death. Dying. I'm supposed to see passion. Grace. Life! If you can't deliver those things, then why don't you just leave the class?"

I looked at him for a good minute. "My mother was a pianist. She used to play many private gigs to feed me. I was always inspired by her music, so I told her that when I got old enough, I wanted to play. I started learning at the age of 7, and she kept teaching me until she started getting too sick to play.

"I was upset when she finally died. I had no materialistic memory of her. The only thing I had was my knowledge. Every time I play, I feel she I near, and I know she is happy that I continue on her legacy. The legacy of my family. She said most of the family played, and I am one of the last people alive in the family, and the last with the gift.

"Now pertaining to today: I have things on my mind. Something happened to me last night that I was very concerned about. I was emotionally scarred, and the more I think about it, the more it makes me upset. I know that the teachers here care about their students' feelings, but there are SOME things they can't comprehend otherwise. This is one of them. I appreciate your concern, sir, but please; stay out of my life! STAY OUT!"

I was now out of my seat. Yakokaze stared back at me with a face that a toddler would have after you yelled at them. I sat back in my seat, unaware of what I was to do now. Finally, I let it out.

"I killed them."

Yakokaze leaned over his desk. "What?"

"I killed them!"

"What are you talking about?"

"DAMMIT, MAN! I KILLED THOSE STUDENTS! IT WAS ME! THEY ATTACKED ME BUT I FOUGHT BACK AND NOW THEY'RE DEAD!" Now I was very exhausted. I was up again, but I sat back down now again. Yakokaze was very shocked. He sat back in his chair and said something that I never thought a person of his character would say.

"Need some legal help?"

I stared back at him blankly. He spoke again.

"Do you need some legal help? One of my friends is a lawyer, and he's had a lot of self-defense cases such as these. He wins most of them, but your case may be different. Did you destroy any evidence?"

I nodded, and he sighed.

"You might have blown this case already," he said, pausing for a brief moment to clean his glasses with a handkerchief from his pocket. "However, it's still fightable. I'll call him over to meet you after school. Be ready to tell this man EVERYTHING you did and knew. Also, I would suggest you both physically and emotionally prepare for what lies ahead. You could be let out that day, or you could be marched straight to a jail cell or asylum immediately. I don't know; I'm not sure."

The bell rang. Lunch break was over.

"Head back to class," he said. And I did, trying to reflect on how I would defend myself.

(insert)

I got up immediately after class and went straight to the music room. Yakokaze was there along with 5 other police officers. The overweight school director sat in a chair in the corner, slumped over and asleep. The police officers were chatting and laughing amongst themselves, and Yakokaze was sitting from across the room staring at them with his infamous eagle eyes. The music chairs that are usually arranged in rows for the classes were gone, and now a large wooden table was in their place with a few regular chairs around them. The room was filled with cigarette smoke, and it made me feel nauseous. I looked at the clock. It read 3:13. I stood beside Yakokaze and whispered into his ear, "Are we missing anybody?"

He broke out of his trance. "Hm? Oh, no. My lawyer's late again. He tends to have a habit of doing that, and I'm not sure when he'll-"

The sliding door cut me off as a young man (probably in his late 20's or early 30's) in a brown suit stood panting in the doorway. He looked like he just ran 5 consecutive triathlons.

Once he caught part of his breath, he started to bow vigorously, and said, "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! My train broke down 3 stops away, so I had to run about 45 blocks from my office to a-"

Before he could finish his story, I put my hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at last, and our eyes locked onto each other. I saw a frightened soul in his eyes, like a homeless child lost in a dark alley somewhere, and it made me ask myself once again whether or not this young man is experienced enough to represent me.

He started to stutter. "N-n-name, p-p-please."

"You never mind that now," I said. "Just call me what Yakokaze calls me. That's good enough for me."

"Oh," he said, and then he noticed Yakokaze from across the room. They went over to each other and exchanged very enthusiastic greeting, plus a small amount of chatter about whatever the hell it is they're doing with each other's lives, and then the lawyer pulled out some sheets of paper out from the lining of his briefcase. He presented them to me.

"What the hell is this?" I said.

"It's a contract." he said. "It legally allows me to represent you in this case. We can talk about future cases later. You will also need to stamp it for verification. Is your stamp on you?"

"Yes, it is. One moment please." I reached into my briefcase and pulled out my stamp, signed the contract, stamped it, and shoved it across the table at the lawyer. He put the contract back into his briefcase and said, "Excellent. Now we can begin. My name is Wakayo, and it will be my pleasure to represent you in this matter."

(insert)

I sat at the table across from the officers and the half-awake school director. Yakokaze sat at his desk, while Wakayo was pacing by the window. The first few minutes, which seemed like an eternity gone by, were silent. Then Wakayo turned around and faced me, now looking serious and proper instead of frail and fragile. He broke the ice by asking me the first question, but he was still trying to figure out my name.

"Just call him Foreign One, Wakayo," Yakokaze said behind the desk, in the midst of polishing his glasses. "He doesn't mind."

"Okay, then," Wakayo said, and then he cleared his throat and asked his question.

"Foreign One," he said. "Please explain what happened the night of the incident."

I explained everything, including what I did to my clothes. Wakayo nodded his head as I explained everything. It seemed that even the police officers were starting to believe me. Finally, I finished. Then Wakayo turned to the police officers and asked them to present their argument. One of the officers stood up and walked over to a box in the corner. He brought the box back and opened it up. "Mr. Wakayo, if you would," said the officer, "we have obtained a search warrant and have found 3 crucial pieces of evidence regarding this case, 2 of which within the residency of the young man sitting across the table." He then pulled out the first piece of evidence, held in a plastic bag: Bubba.

"This box cutter," he continued, taking Bubba out of the bag, "was found on the desk of the defendant. It looks clean to the naked eye, but look!" He pointed to the crevices where the blade mount is. "There's blood in these here crevices. Blood that he couldn't get out! We ran scientific analysis on this blood, and it contains DNA matches of at least 3 of the victims in that incidence!" Then he put Bubba back inside the bag and left it on the table. Next he pulled out another bag containing a pile of ashes.

"These are ashes found inside the metal barrel in the alleyway next to the apartment building in which the defendant lives. As you can see, there are tiny fragments of charred cloth found inside. Now while it may not seem as significant into the case as known, the defendant was seen burning in the bin by the landlord himself."

"He never came out," I interjected.

"He didn't have to," the officer said. "He watched from his window. Also, he had emptied the bin earlier today, and he did not see any other residents use the bin since your usage earlier. So it's obvious now that there you were trying to hide something, despite the fact that we cannot analyze any DNA from the ashes."

Placing the bag of ashes down on the table, he reached into the box for the third and final thing: an arm, freeze-dried and coated in some kind of grease to prevent it from decaying quickly. He placed it down on the table and started explaining.

"This arm," he said, "was obtained with permission from the girl's family, who is obviously shocked by the defendant's brutal actions. The arm obviously contains slashes that are on a lethal level. The arm, as you can see, was struggling to fight away the defendant, but to no avail." Then he reached for the arm, but before he could, Wakayo seized it instead and showed the hand, which had an imprint on it.

Before the officer could rebuke, Wakayo said, "Is there any chance that you've overlooked the simple observation that all 12 of these victims were _armed_? And they were armed with dozukis, weren't they?"

The officer pulled a bag out from the box, containing a bloody (not my blood, that's for sure) dozuki in it. "You are correct, sir," he said.

"Look at the imprint," Wakayo said. "Now doesn't that imprint look rather deep to you? It's obvious that the defendant was holding it tightly, and holding it for a while. So what would a 'victim' be holding onto a dozuki like that for? And do you see the vein popping out of that arm? It looks like it's been flexed for a while, too. Once again, the 'victim' was probably waiting for the right time to attack my client. Have you investigated the backgrounds of these kids?"

The officer looked back. "We are running through our records as we speak, although it may take a while longer because of-"

A sudden beeping noise sounded from another officer's pocket. The officer took out blue Blackberry and read through it. He stood up. "Sir," he said, "we've got the analysis on those records."

"Wow," he said, "that's convenient. What're the results?"

"It seems that 9 of the 12 kids have had at least one incident report filed against them for 'disorderly conduct'. This probably means that some or all of the kids were mentally unstable or-"

"-part of some sort of a cult." Wakayo finished. We looked around the room at each other.

(insert)

About 3 days later, I went to the music room for class, but the students were standing outside in front of the door, with a sign on it saying "NO ENTRY!" I made my way to the door and banged on it.

"Yakokaze!" I said. "What's the holdup?"

I heard some things being knocked over and a couple of low grunts and then a click from behind the door. "Come on in!" I heard.

I, as well as all the other classmates, were stunned to see that the room was decorated was balloons and streamers. There was a bunch of food on the table in the middle, which had not moved from its place since we left yesterday. A huge banner hung off the ceiling, and it read (in English, of course) "CONGRATULATIONS, FOREIGN ONE!" Yakokaze was standing in the center of it all, with the biggest, most sheepish grin I have ever seen him, or anyone else for that matter, express.

"What's this all about?" I asked. "What the hell happened? This is _so_ not like you to do something like this."

His response was feverish giggling as he reached into his shirt pocket, pulled out a white envelope, and gave it to me. I opened it up. It was a court statement of my trial, which I chose to skip seeing as I didn't like the conditions of courtrooms ever since my custody hearing when my mother died. What probably got him going was listed in one of the boxes:

"VERDICT: NOT GUILTY ON ACCOUNTS OF SELF-DEFENSE"

I slowly looked up at Yakokaze. He was calmed down now, still smiling, and was holding out Bubba to me. I took it back and looked at it in my hand. Clenching it tightly for a brief moment, I put it into my pants pocket. Then I looked at him, expressionlessly of course. After a few moments of silence, I said, with a grin:

"This is the best damn piece of news I've gotten since I came here."

His sheepish grin came back. "LET'S PARTY!" he cried (in crude Engrish, might I add), and he turned on some music. The whole room broke out in celebration. I will never forget that particular 5th hour, even when I finish retelling my story to you today. It was one of my more (how do I put this?) _blissful_ moments in my life, and it gave me some sort of reassurance that there were people out there who cared about me a good deal enough to be there for me in times of need. I felt great, but you must always keep an eye out for trouble ahead…

(insert)

_I stared at her father from across the table. He looked at me with questionable confidence, and he asked me the same question again._

"_Are you _sure _this is a good thing to do?"_

_I answered back, without skipping a beat. "Yes," I said. "She needs this now more than ever. It's the only way left…that would brighten her life…"_


	7. CHAPTER VI: THE ANGEL'S GRACE

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VI

THE ANGEL'S GRACE

Yesterday's party in the music room had already been long forgotten as we dove right back into our preparations for the school festival coming up in a month. Yakokaze was very serious about this event, as this was basically one of the only public events the school attended every year (as _I_ heard from him), so it was crucial to pull this event off the right way to leave an outstanding impression about our music department. The jazz band, select choir, orchestra, and general band (which is what I'm in) would all be participating, and Yakokaze sealed the doors of escape by saying that if you tried to skip on purpose (as most other people did during those events), then you would be simply dropped from the music program. I'd drop it if there were any other interesting electives, so that means I'm going to this thing after all.

Now the interesting thing about this particular event was that Yakokaze _always_ did something "extra" at these events, whether it be a long speech by Yakokaze about the music program at the school and its various progressions or forcing the band to dress up in chicken suits and play a funky rendition of the chicken dance (thankfully, that was _last_ year so it won't happen this year, as Yakokaze _hates_ repeating himself). This year, however, was something that was so shocking that it even caught _me_ by surprise.

The chime went off signaling the end of class. Now normally Yakokaze would just dismiss us without saying anything else. Instead, he made an announcement as he put his conductor's score away.

"I need to see Chihori Zahakuri and the Foreign One right now, please. That's all." And with that he sat down at his desk, waiting for us.

I rose from the piano and walked over to the desk as the other students put away their things. There was one girl in the flute section who was obviously taking her time, like she was waiting for someone or something. The only thing I noticed about her was that she looked familiar, like I had seen her before. Her hair was long and back, tied up and in a ponytail, and she wore glasses. She looked very thin in her white shirt and blue skirt, and she had a fairly decent rack. A lot of boys coveted her, but she never took anybody. Was she in love with another guy? Or girl? Or was she just plain incompetent?

The room emptied fast, and now it was just the three of us. Yakokaze finished polishing his glasses and looked at us both. Finally he spoke.

"I guess it's time for me to tell you both what this year's 'surprise' is."

The girl and I looked at each other. Our eyes locked. As Yakokaze drabbled on, I couldn't stop staring at this girl, even as she looked away. I saw…grace. Lots of grace. She was like an angel, spreading her grace to those she met, and she looked like she was glowing. This strange aura surrounded me, and as it engulfed my surroundings, I reached out my hand toward her glowing hair, tempted to run it through my fingers and let it fall back into pla-

"FOREIGN ONE!"

I broke out of the trance. I was standing in a rather funny position, unaware of what happened. I felt something in between my fingers, and I looked at my hand, and sure enough, there was that girl, and I was feeling her hair with my fingers. I yanked them away as fast as I could, blushing as red as a beet. Finally I managed to speak.

"Y-y-yes, sir?"

"Did you not just hear a word I said??"

"N-no, sir."

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I guess you weren't _listening_ again, Foreign One. To sum everything up, you and Miss Chihori here will be playing a duet together for the school festival as this year's "surprise". Now you two are my TOP musicians. TOP. That means that you both have the highest averages in this class as well the most skills in your areas of instrumentation. You will be representing the school's honor, and dignity, and yadda yadda yadda. Therefore, you should both pull your heads out of your asses and start preparing a song."

I opened my mouth to speak, but Yakokaze butted in. "And if it's written, played by, or related in any other format to Rage Against the Machine or Fear Before the March of Flames, I'm gonna shove my foot so far in your ass, Foreign One, it's going to come out your _mouth_."

I opened it again, and he said, "Or ZZ Top."

Shit. Well, at least I tried.

He stood up from his desk, holding out a slip of paper. "Because you both are in the same class, you may share this pass." He reached for his empty coffee cup. "I'm going to be at a staff meeting after school, so feel free to search the archives for some sheet music. I will also be available for whenever you need something confusing cleared up." He winked at us in the doorway. "I'm counting on you guys." And he was gone.

It was both of us alone. I wanted to get to class immediately, so I started for the door. However, I was stopped by a faint "Excuse me."

I turned around. This girl, who I supposed was Chihori, stood very quietly in front of me now. This angel, who-

WHAM!

To put it mildly, I just punched my junk.

Chihori stared at me wide-eyed. Finally she asked, "Does that hurt?"

"Yes," I said, not missing a beat. "I can just hold my emotions in better than most people."

She and I stared at each other for a brief moment. A breeze blew into the room, making her hair flow. Finally, she said,

"I don't know who you are, but…but…"

I looked at her puzzled.

She bowed furiously, and then said something confusing in my opinion at the time.

"Thank you for saving me!"

And with that, she snatched the pass out of my hand, ran out of the room, and bolted down the hall. Her grace was unsurpassed as she ran, her steps light and soft, and I might've even saw a tear go airborne. This was a true angel's grace.

What did she mean by that? Who is this girl? And more importantly, how am I going to get to class without a pass now?

(insert)

_I sat in a shaky lump in the corner of my room. She was gone now. I was basically alone, with a sick mother and the four walls that surround me. I couldn't shake away the images I saw just recently. They have been permanently fused in my head._

_I huddled there in that corner, all alone, and sprayed in blood._


	8. CHAPTER VII: JOINT DECISION

CHAPTER VII

JOINT DECISION

I went straight to the music room after school. Surely enough, Chihori was there waiting for me, her hair now down, and she was arranging it while looking into a pocket mirror. I tossed my bag by the door, and it startled her. She closed the pocket mirror and put it into her bag, then turned to face me, but she turned so quickly she fell over while trying to stop the pivot. She landed on her butt, and she rubbed her backside, saying "Ow, ow, ow," over and over again. I reached out a hand to help her up.

"Oh," she said. "Thank you." I pulled her up and she brushed off the seat of her skirt. Finally she turned to me and said, "Shall we go then?"

"Sure," I said, holding the door open to the archive room next to me. "Ladies first."

"Oh!" she said. "Well, you sure are quite the gentleman." And we went in together.

The archive room (or closet, if that's what'd you prefer to consider in this case) was a room connected between the music room and the theatre room, thus shaped like a rectangle. There were two bookcases along the walls and two in the center, dividing the place into 4 bookcases in 3 rows, with a table beside the wall that divided the room from the hallway. The two on the side of the theatre room were, of course, for theatre, while the other two were left for the music. There was also a stepstool in the corner for reaching a shelf that's high up. I grabbed it and searched along the row closer to the music room. I found the section entitled "DUETS" up on the top shelf and put the stepstool down and got up on it, taking down everything. Then I brought it back over to the table and started moving through the piles. I found 5 scores of music and plopped them off to the side, in front of Chihori.

When I was done going through the pile, I turned and said, "This is what we've got. Pick one; I don't care what."

Chihori looked at me with a strange face. "Well, that's not a good way to pick. Do you not want a say in the decision? We _are_ supposed to choose this together, you know."

"Listen to me, child," I said. "I'm not doing this because I want to. This is my so-called 'payment' for Yakokaze's help in my case. I just want it _done_ and _over with_. I'm NOT here to form a relationship with you, I'm NOT here to express my love for music, and I'm MOST CERTAINLY NOT here to get dragged down in my life by some girl who feels it's righteous to make a 'joint decision'. Do you understand me, child?"

Chihori's eyes started to swell with tears. She put her hands over face and started sobbing wildly. I noticed, in the midst of all this, that there was a plastic gold-colored ring on her left ring finger. That ring looked somewhat familiar. I knew this for a fact because I saw it somewhere before. I just can't remember where.

"You…"

I looked at her. Her hands were off her face and now clenched by her sides, tears still streaming down her face.

"You…you…"

Finally she snapped. She ran over to where I left the stepstool, and threw it at me with great force.

"YOU IDIOT!"

The stepstool was coming fast. I put my right hand into a fist and chopped at the stepstool with my left just as it came sailing towards me. It broke into a thousand shards and spilled onto the floor and the table behind me.

I opened my eyes and saw Chihori run into the music room. She grabbed her bag and her flute case and ran out the door, but before she did, she turned and yelled at me the one clue I found that told me who she really was.

"I HATE YOU! YOU ARE SO CRUEL! I SHOULD HAVE JUMPED OFF THAT PLATFORM INSTEAD OF LISTENING TO YOU!"

I was instantly shocked. And with that, she turned and ran out the door.

"_I SHOULD HAVE JUMPED OFF THAT PLATFORM INSTEAD OF LISTENING TO YOU!"_

…

"_I SHOULD HAVE JUMPED OFF THAT PLATFORM…"_

…

"…_OFF THAT PLATFORM…"_

…

"…_PLATFORM…"_

...

Oh, shit. I think I know who she is now. She was one of the girls trying to jump at the station last week who dropped her hand for me. She was wearing that ring at the time; _that's_ where I knew that ring from!

Wait, is she going to jump again?

I ran straight to the nearest train station from our school.

(insert)

I had no time to slow down. I was as tired as hell, but I still kept running. And that's where I saw her. She was along the platform, her back to me, waiting for a train. I heard, _"For your safety, please remain behind the yellow line."_ That was a sign that a train was coming. I saw her take off her shoes, an obvious sign that she was really going to jump. And then there were the lights, reflecting off the ceramic tile along the eastern wall. I saw her right leg go up, and she started to lean into the track. With that I pushed all my might into my last few strides.

_NO! Don't take her away from me, too!_

I tackled her, wrapping my arms around her, and hit the ground. My eyes were shut as tight as a vacation home in the winter, and I felt a rush of wind blow beneath my feet. However, I wasn't in pain. In fact, quite the opposite. I felt like I was flying. I was in the air, and I couldn't see anything yet, but I felt Chihori fly alongside me, and we were flying up, up, up into the clouds, where there was an angel standing at the peak of the clouds.

"Mom!" I cried.

She said nothing in her smile, and she turned away from me.

"MOOOOOM!" I yelled, and I started to fall.

(insert)

"Hey, kid."

A smack of leather in my face revived me. I opened my eyes. I was alive. I couldn't believe it, but I was alive. I sat up. It was late evening now; the sky was almost pitch black. Chihori was no longer under me, and I instantly turned around to make sure that Chihori wasn't a mess of blood along the tracks. It turns out she wasn't. I spun around to find a laughing train worker.

"Don't worry, son. Your girlfriend is safe." He pointed. "Look."

And there she was, sitting off the edge of the platform across from my view, wrapped in an orange blanket and drinking a cup of coffee.

"You've got some nerve, kid, jumping out onto the tracks like that. It's a good thing you landed in the middle track when that train came; otherwise we would've had to dig out the scrapers." He chuckled again. "Oh, but don't worry; you're fine. There's already been a paramedic here, and it turns out that you and her are both without a scratch."

I waited for him to finish that sentence, and then I jumped over both of the tracks and pulled myself up onto the platform, right beside Chihori. I scrambled onto my knees and bent down.

"Please forgive me!" I cried.

I was returned by a delayed but encouraging _glomp!_ Chihori was now embracing me, and she was hugging me.

"No," she said. "Forgive _me_. I almost got us _both_ killed."

I picked her up off the ground and said with a grin, "Okay, then this is BOTH our faults, and as punishment, we both have to do something together, like, oh, I don't know…a musical duet in the school festival."

Chihori looked at me, and then she started to laugh hard. She was starting to cry again, but I knew it was the good type of cry you give while laughing.

"Sounds like a plan, O Foreign One!" And we both laughed and hugged again.

"Hey,"

"Hmm?"

"I kind of liked that Mozart piece. Can we do that?"

I looked down at her. "I wanted to do Schubert, though."

She looked up, with her puppy eyes that got me into yet another trance of how beautiful and young those eyes, bright and watery, brought me into a deep, dark submiss-

WHAM!

Here it goes again.

I stayed on the ground and answered, "Okay. Mozart works, too."

(insert)

_We were lying side by side in the snow, making snow angels. She was getting a little ecstatic over hers, and by the time she stopped flailing her arms and legs, she had created a circle._

_I got up and laughed. "That's not how you make a snow angel."_

_She pouted and tossed some snow at me. "Well, I don't see YOU doing any better."_

_I looked down at the mess I made in the snow. She had a point. We both had a long laugh about it. And then she turned to me and said, "Hey."_

_I looked back, smiling, but she was serious now._

"_What do you think death is like?"_


	9. CHAPTER VIII: THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME

CHAPTER VIII

THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME

I walked Chihori home. I don't normally go to other people's houses, if you haven't figured that out already. We were silent the whole way, but we both had the same things on our minds: what in the hell were we going to tell her parents? Would her parents not care, or go crazily insane and lock her up in an institution at some undisclosed location? We weren't sure, but Chihori looked calm, as if she was waiting for this moment for a while. That personally puzzled me, as I had no idea what she'd be like as soon as we got there.

We arrived at this lavish apartment building in Shibuya. She lived on the top floor, in the penthouse suite. And boy, was it sweet. It was big (I think it was about 3000 sq. ft.) and lavish, with oak EVERYTHING and pristine oriental rugs. The living room and kitchen were joined together, and a hallway towards the back of the place led to the bedrooms in which she stayed.

Now the next thing I noticed was that the only pairs of shoes there were at the door were mine and Chihori's, so I had to ask.

"Chihori," I said.

She turned around as she walked from the doorway. "Hmmm?" she asked.

"Where are your parents?"

"Oh," she said softly, looking down. "They're away on business. They're always traveling. I only see them about 3 times a year."

"Really? Because I figured that by the looks of this place that they're pretty well off and would be home more often."

"Who knows…" she murmured.

After a couple of seconds of silence, she looked back at me with a forced smile and said, "But that's okay, I get used to it."

I was silent still. She went back to being silent. We were all alone. Just the two of us. We stood where we were, blushing, thinking about things that a boy and girl of equal age would be doing at home at night with no one else around-

Cock punch, and I'm back on the floor.

Chihori laughed. "Why do you do that so much?"

I got up. "Because sometimes my head isn't on straight."

We laughed it off. Finally, I said, "Well, it's been a wild day, but now I'm going to go home."

She looked back astonished. "Are you sure? Shinjuku's a long way off."

"It's fine, really. I've got things of my own to do anyway." But I was lying. I had no homework to begin with, and my computer is set on auto-record.

I started for the door.

"Wait!"

I turned to see Chihori reaching out for me, blushing a tad bit nervously. She drew her hand back instantly, and then said,

"Well, if you w-w-wanted to s-s-s-stay for the night, t-t-t-that's f-f-f-f-f-f-"

She was starting to look cute. And my balls were starting to feel sore.

After finding the leg support to get back up, I said to her, "Do you need me here?"

She blushed even harder. Finally, she managed to say, "YES!"

That "'YES!'" echoed through the house. The first thing I managed to say was, "Nice acoustics."

We both laughed hard. Finally, after the tears dried up, I said, "Alright, I guess I can stay. But just tonight, Chihori. I don't want you to be so attached to me that you wind up having a mental lapse from when I can't be with you."

"Alright," she sighed. She got up and went to the kitchen.

"I'll make you something to eat. Could you please wait?"

"Sure," I said, plopping my tired behind down on the couch.

(insert)

About 20 minutes later, I was served a very LARGE piece of meat. I don't know WHAT type of meat it was, or whether or not it qualified as meat AT ALL. I just know that a bowl of white rice was put next to that plate as well as a glass of juice, and as Chihori sat down, she clapped her hands together and said, "Thanks for the food." Then she picked up her bowl, but before she took the first bite, she stopped, suddenly remembering something, and put her bowl down. She cleared her throat and gave me a stern look, as if I had just peed on one of her fancy oriental rugs.

"Whaqh?" I said, as I had already shoveled in this "meat" I was given.

"Bad etiquette."

"Hmmm?"

"I said that you have bad etiquette."

I put the food down, swallowed the huge lump in my mouth and wiped my face with my white shirt (which was and still is a VERY stupid thing to do in front of a girl). I was never born a polite eater, as my aunt basically told me to make my own dinner.

"Well then," I said, "teach me."

"First off, you don't wipe your mouth with a shirt. _Especially_ a white shirt. We have napkins for that, and if you need one, you ask."

I looked down at this huge smear of meat sauce that was now on my shirt. "Okay, I'll stop that. Now what?"

She clapped her hands together and said, "Thanks for the food."

More silence, and then I said, "You finished?"

She looked at me with that look again. "NO," she said. "You're supposed to say it, too."

I sighed. "Okay, fine."

I did it, but with no feeling.

"With feeling! One, two-"

CLAP! "Thanks for the food!"

Just as I was about to pick up my rice bowl again, she said, "And one last thing: NO SHOVELING."

Jesus Christ, did I make the right decision to stay the night?

(insert)

With my clothes in the wash and my belly full, I grabbed a blanket off the couch and plopped down on it. I tried to reach for the light, only to realize that there was no light next to the couch.

"Lights," I hollered to Chihori, who was in her room with the door closed.

I heard a door open and slam and then firm footsteps that gradually got louder until she was in the main room. I figured she was going to attempt to hurt me for hollering at her, but she sounded more concerned, and said,

"Are you going to spend the night out here?"

I looked up. Chihori was dressed in a lime-green pajama set, with her hair tied back in two tightly-braided pigtails. She had that tsundere look on her face, and she was absolutely cute in her-

WHAM! And now I know what wood flooring tastes like.

After getting up off the floor, I saw her still standing there and said, "To answer you question, yes. And I don't mind. Now could you _please_ hit the lights?"

She said, "Well, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable here."

"Why should I be uncomfortable? It's a couch. Big deal. I've slept on sharp rocks a few times in my life; I can sure as hell handle this."

"But I want you to feel at home. Did you know that there's no place like home?"

I looked down at the floor sulking. "I have no home."

She looked sad, and said, "Listen, there's a guest bed down the hall. You can sleep there. But PLEASE don't punish yourself by sleeping on the couch like that."

I did not move.

"Please. I don't want you to be sad. Please."

I still did not move, but this time it was because I couldn't. I felt myself fall, and was out cold before I felt the firmness of that wood floor.

(insert)

I woke up in what was supposedly the guest bed. I could hear the sounds of breakfast in the kitchen. I stumbled out in my underwear, and I went straight to that kitchen. When I came out, I found Chihori standing at the stovetop, with an apron around her nice, clean school uniform. She was humming something. I don't know what, but she was humming it anyway. Finally she looked up with a smile.

"Good morning, sleepyhead. You had a rough night last night."

I rubbed my head, which felt sore from the fall. "You think so?"

"Well, yes, but I was able to walk you to bed. You were subconscious, crying out to someone. I couldn't figure out whom because it was in English, but I think it was the name of a girl."

I looked at her shocked. She looked up.

"What?" she said. "Did I say something wrong?"

I looked at her like that for a few seconds. Finally I said, "No, I'm sorry. I'm still lost from yesterday, where I was still underneath a train moving at 60 miles an hour."

"Okay, I understand."

But before she looked down, she started to giggle and said, "You may want to put away your pencil there, O Foreign One."

"What?" I looked down. You figure out the rest of the scenario.

"Aww, _shit_." I said.

She started to laugh. Then I joined in. After the laughing ceased, she said, "Your uniform is on the table. Go get dressed and eat something and then we'll head out."

"Okay," I said. I picked up my now smear-free clothes and walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day ahead. But the one thing that questioned me was very complex:

Was I calling out to who I think it was?

(insert)

"_With arms wide open…under the sunlight…"_

_They played this song as mourners walked past her open casket. I looked inside the casket. My friend lay inside, the bottom half of her body covered with a blanket to hide the lethal marks from the train wheels that ended her existence here on Earth. I reached into the casket and took her hand. It felt pale, cold, and lifeless. I did not cry. I couldn't cry anymore. I was done crying. I had almost nothing left to cry for._

"_with arms wide open…wide open…"_


	10. CHAPTER IX: IN THE AIR TODAY

CHAPTER IX

IN THE AIR TODAY

Chihori and I left the train station and continued on our way to school. We walked quietly because we were still both scared of each other. I went from totally secluded to having a companion alongside me almost wherever we went. I was wondering if people thought that we had started dating by now. But we weren't dating now, we had never dated before, and we may never even date at all. We just had to wait for the future and the adventures it held for us.

And an adventure was coming now.

The school was in sight, and we were a few blocks away from it now. There were people everywhere, assembling through the gates into the school yard where our own education is given to us. I had noticed that other students were following us from a couple of blocks back. I heard a bunch of whispers; maybe they were jealous because Chihori was the most popular person in school and she chose to spend her time with me, a complete and total lowlife. I don't know what was on their minds, but I didn't even want to get my day started off on the wrong foot. The last time I went berserk I almost got myself killed as well as Chihori. I didn't want to have to relive _that_ experience again.

But I was about to live _another_ experience.

What I could make of it was that some dude was running behind, carrying a big black pot and running for his life, muttering, "I'm late, I'm late, I'm late, I am SOOOOO late! Late, late, late…" Something fell from his pot, and he continued on running without even noticing it. I ran over to pick it up.

"Hey, mister! You dropped this-"

It was a small bag, like a bag for peanuts that airlines refuse to give to you anymore, but instead of peanuts, it was dark rocks. I read the package:

"CHARCOAL PELLETS, CONTAINS 15% CYANIDE. 150g"

_Charcoal pellets_? And why is there _cyanide_ in them? Is he trying to-

Oh, great. He _is_.

I started running in the direction that the man ran in, and I could hear Chihori calling from behind me.

"Hey! Where are you going? School is about to start!"

"Not now, child! Can't talk! Lives in danger! Don't wait for me. Tell the teacher I'm sick! I'll see you later!"

I could hear faint calling, but I couldn't make it out.

(insert)

I ran for about half an hour, but I couldn't find where the guy went. I asked a couple of people if they'd seen him, but I got mixed directions. It didn't really help me, and I finally stopped at the park to rest.

_Damn_, I thought. _Too late. NOW what am I going to do???_

That's when I just remembered. Chihori and I had passed an old building on the way to school. I asked her what the building was, but she had no clue and said it was pretty boarded up anyway. I ran in the direction of that building. That had to be the only logical place he could go. And God, I hoped I was right.

(insert)

It took me another 10 minutes of backtracking to get to the building. I could smell some smoke leaking out from the inside, but the building wasn't on fire. I was right. _This_ time.

It was coming from the second floor. I ran into the alleyway and climbed up the rusty stairs to the entryway on the second floor. I was about to tackle the door, but then I remembered what the science teacher would drone about in his lectures. Cyanide was deadly, and even if you didn't inject it, it could kill you if you were exposed to it for a prolonged amount of time. I could also feel lots of humidity seeping out through the cracks of the door. The cyanide probably worked its way into the humidity, and inhaling the air meant insta-death for you. I had to think of a way to avoid breathing in the air. I saw an old rag in a trash can at the bottom of the stairwell. It might have had germs, but I had to do something.

I ran down the stairs, got the rag, and ran back up. I tied the cloth around my nose and mouth. Then I took an ultimate risk in my life and bashed the door open in one go with my leg. I entered the smoky and humid room, and started to look for survivors, knowing my time was limited.

I found a circle of people, gathered around that pot the man brought with him. It was still ablaze. I noticed a bottle of water in the corner. Grabbing it, I extinguished the fire with the bottle's contents, then started to pull the people out. After combing the entire building, I pulled out nine people in total; the oldest looked 72 while the youngest looked 20.

All of them had pulses. It seemed that I was on time. I started doing CPR on all of them, and they started to come back to their senses. By the time that guy that passed me earlier woke up, he tried to run back into the building to die in the smog. I tackled him down, and he was crying and moaning as I remained on top of him, screaming "Let me go, let me go!"

"Why?" I hollered back. "So you can off yourself and suffer in the afterlife?"

But he kept on being persistent. Finally he gave up and I got off him, but then I felt a wet spot on his back. I ripped off his shirt with Bubba, who rested trustily in my pocket, and looked at that area.

His skin was stripped off.

It was on the upper left hand corner of his back, right over where a tattoo used to be. It looked like a butterfly. I flipped him over and said, "Who did this to you?"

He started to cry. I shook him and said, "I. SAID. WHO. THE. FUCK. DID. THIS. TO. YOU?"

He was so excited he passed out. I threw him down and had a gut feeling. I looked at the rest of the backs on the people. They all had the same amount of skin stripped off, the same place it was stripped off, and the same tattoo. That's when I realized that this was no ordinary suicide pact.

I was dealing with a cult.

(insert)

"_Give it back!"_

"_Nuh-uh!"_

"_I said GIVE IT BACK!"_

"_Betcha can't make me!"_

_She tackled me. I had stolen her favorite Barbie doll and now she was getting all anal on me. After rustling on the grassy hillside, I finally released my grip on the doll._

"_Finally!" she said, grabbing it._

_I tried to sit up, but she was still on top of me._

_We just had our first kiss._

_And our last._


End file.
